More Trouble Than it's Worth
by Grave Bells
Summary: Baljeet agrees to go to Junior Prom with Wendy, and Buford is inexplicably furious. BuJeet. Side-PhinBella. T for swearing, and a spot of homophobic language.
1. Chapter 1

_**More Trouble Than it's Worth**_

_**Chapter 1**_

* * *

><p>The summer before Junior year had come and gone too fast. It felt like yesterday they were back on vacation, going on daring adventures and creating outrageous things. But here they all were, back in an English III class they were oh-so-lucky to all be put into.<p>

Lucky for them, Christmas break was mere weeks away.

Phineas and Isabella had long since tuned out the teacher and taken to passing cute little love notes back and forth across their row. Buford had also decided his time could have been better spent on something besides listening to the teacher read a holocaust book, and was in the process of turning every sheet of paper in his notebook into little paper footballs. Once a football was complete, he'd aim it up and skillfully flick it right into the side of the head of the scrawny Indian boy two seats to his left. Said Indian boy, Baljeet, spent the class with his head bent over his extensive page of notes on the book being read, trying his hardest to ignore the thwack of the sharp origami against his curl-covered scalp and mindlessly chauffeuring the note back and forth across the row. Ferb found himself doodling on some paper while he listened to the book, and otherwise kept to himself.

In the back of his mind, Baljeet was cursing the world.

Well… perhaps not _all_ the world, but definitely the hefty teen who had attached himself to him since they were kids. The stalky, muscular, slightly overweight, football player-esque kid who'd basically forced him into a Bully-Nerd contract back when they were still in middle school. The kid he was still pretty much scared to death of, even though he knew absolutely every one of his deepest secrets.

Yeah, Buford.

Not only did Baljeet believe somewhere in his short life that Buford would eventually null out their 'contract' and stop pestering him, but he thought that Buford would just end up maturing to the point where he would completely forget about it.

Unfortunately, if the little paper triangles still being flicked at the 16 year olds head were any indication, Buford had not only _not_ matured in the slightest, but had also often made it very clear to Baljeet that the poor, smaller kid was, now and forever, 'his Nerd'.

Baljeet was _this_ close to exposing all of Buford's dark secrets to the entire school, if only to make him feel both the physical and emotional pain he'd been put through over the years. Much to his annoyance, the fact that he knew practically everything about the other teenager let him predict exactly what would happen if he _did_ do such a thing. Not only would he find his head literally shoved up his ass, but he'd also have to endure knowing that he would have been nail that shattered their friendship.

Yes, even Baljeet had to admit the two of them were close friends. Even through all the bullying and harassment, the two often found comfort in confiding in each other. Over time, the scrawny teen had learned that Buford's threatening exterior was matched only by his equally horrid sensitivity. The bully got attached to things _very_ easily, and if something happened to one of them, he became a sobbing ball of flesh and despair. Though, as annoying as this was, sometimes it was a welcome change of pace.

_Flick!_

The Indian boy twitched, the grip on his pencil tightening. His head snapped to the side to send what he liked to call a 'dark glare' at the massive teen two seats away from him. He frowned when Buford's amused smile grew into a satisfied grin, and growled gently as he was handed a note from Phineas. Once he passed the paper along, he shot the bully another hateful look, and turned back to his notes.

Scribbling furiously to catch up on the few lines of text he'd missed out on notating, Baljeet didn't even notice that Buford had pulled his straw from his Gatorade and begun gnawing on some paper.

_Ssplchk!_

Baljeet's pencil snapped.

"Do you have ANY sort of DECENCY in your unnecessarily large body!" He practically screamed, standing from his seat and throwing an accusing finger towards Buford's nose. In the short silence following the outburst, the bully merely beamed up at the angry brainiac proudly, as if he'd finally accomplished some great feat.

"Baljeet Rai!" The teacher finally sputtered, caught between being utterly flabbergasted and angry at being interrupted.

Baljeet could feel his face practically catch fire; oh no, what had he just done? "Y-Yes, Mrs. Tyger..?" he muttered embarrassedly, quickly finding himself shrinking back down into his seat to avoid all the stares.

"That was completely uncalled for!" the woman snapped, her brows furrowing disapprovingly. "Such an outburst, and from a model student no less!"

"But Ma'am, Buford was-"

"I'm very disappointed in you, Baljeet. You know better!"

Whining gently in his throat, the poor boy slid down farther in his seat, burying his face in his hands. All the children around him were snickering under their breaths. Buford didn't even have to touch him to set off his temper anymore. How could he have had such an outburst in the middle of class? Oh gods, he was so ashamed.

Much to Baljeet's delight, the electronic whining of a 'bell' decided to use that moment to take it's noisy place in the small-ish classroom. Eager to get out of the bad environment, the Indian boy just scooped up all his belongs and practically ran out the door.

"Bring your books again next class! And remember, Prom is Friday night! I'm chaperoning the dance, so you kids better not think you're getting away with any bumping and grinding!" the woman at the front of the room called over her shuffling students, book marking her page with that class's colored post-it.

In the hall, Baljeet was scurrying around other students with his books clutched to his chest and his eyes towards the floor. It was lunch, but he wasn't really in the mood for food anymore, so he had decided to go and take shelter in the atrium at the center of the school. Now if he could just get there before-

"Hey, Nerd."

Baljeet clenched his teeth as a large hand reached through the crowd and grasped onto his shoulder. He was forced to stop, and turned his head slightly to look back at Buford.

"What do you want?" he asked coolly.

"The cafeteria is the other direction," Buford frowned and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. "Where are you going? Everyone's waiting for you."

"I am not eating lunch with _you_ today. I have to at least hold on to _some_ dignity." Baljeet turned, put his nose in the air, and began back on his way towards the garden. Buford's brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Excuse me?" he snapped, his arm lashing out and taking a firm hold around the smaller kid's bicep. "I don't think I heard you correctly." He just growled further when Baljeet eeped and tried to shrink away. He yanked the boy closer and stared him down threateningly. "You're not doing _what_ now?"

Baljeet stared up at the huge male with wide eyes, trembling gently as he was loomed over. He gaped a bit, then looked away.

"U-uh. I am not.. hungry.. So I am going to go.. do something productive..?" he mumbled, wincing a bit as the grip on his upper arm tightened. He eeped again when the bully pulled him onto his tip-toes, bringing them eye-to-eye.

"And you can't do something productive while you eat lunch with your friends?" Buford growled, using his free hand to poke the dark-skinned boy in the chest.

Baljeet swallowed thickly, and despite being absolutely terrified, mustered up a dark glare and tried to pull his arm away. "I have business to attend to! Why do you even care? You will just dump my food down the back of my shirt anyway."

The bully blinked, the fight in the nerd catching him off-guard. The lapse in thought gave Baljeet enough time to wrench his arm from Buford's grip and quickly begin back into the crowd of people. The hefty male stared a moment, then growled and started after him again.

"Nerd!"

"Would you leave me alone for five minutes, Buford?" Baljeet yelled back, his confidence rising a little as he kept a good distance between the two of them.

"Look, you," Buford snapped, shoving over small freshman to catch up to Baljeet. "You don't run away from Buford when he's talking to ya."

The smaller teen tried to dodge a group of cheerleaders giggling over a phone, but only managed to crash himself into one of the girls and drop the books in his hands.

"Oh my, pardon me," he mumbled quickly, otherwise ignoring the female screeching about her hair being mussed up. He fumbled with his books, but wasn't able to get them all up before Buford was upon him. He gasped as he was roughly pulled up by the back of his shirt.

"Please excuse the nerd, ladies," Buford said smoothly, smiling at the cheerleaders, who gaped at him in both awe and fear. "He's just a little wound up. I'll show him what happens to the people who mess up a perfect girl's hairdo."

Baljeet would have barfed at the words spewing out of the bully's mouth, had said male not begun to drag him off towards the nearby side-hall.

Now towards the middle of the quieter, semi-deserted hall, Buford stopped and whirled on 'his' nerd. Baljeet squawked as he was roughly pushed up against the wall, what little hold he had on his notebooks failing and sending them scattering. He instinctively shrank back into the plaster, his nails trying to grip into the paint by his upper thighs. Buford slammed both of his over-sized palms into the wall beside the scrawny kid's shoulders, succeeding not only in trapping him, but making him jump.

"You're being unusually pissy," Buford stated, a sudden, uncharacteristically serious look crossing his face as he stared down at the trembling Indian teen.

"Well, what do you expect?" Baljeet hesitated, swallowing back some fear and furrowing his brows. The male in front of him may be huge and intimidating, but out of all the people who knew him, Baljeet should be the last person still scared of him. "You got me into trouble with the teacher!"

Buford blinked, then fell into a barking laugh, throwing his head back. "That's all your wimpy little head was concerned about? _Getting in trouble?_" he finally responded, still grinning.

"Of course I am concerned, you thick headed imbecile!" Baljeet snapped, clenching his fists as his fear eased away. "I have never gotten in trouble in my whole life! Can you even comprehend what this will do to my record?" He stamped one of his feet on the carpet, growling at the amused look on the bully's visage. "Stop smiling like this is a good thing! You have no idea how horrible getting in trouble is!"

"Listen, 'Jeet," Buford spoke casually, his tone sliding into Baljeet's ears like ice on hot metal. "Haven't you ever thought about what it was like to live on the bad side? You've really never been curious about the thrill of, say…" one of Buford's meaty fingers found its way to the bottom of the smaller boy's chin. It carefully pulled the jaw down, giving the bully a great image of a suddenly very flustered-looking Baljeet with his mouth partway open. "_Almost_ getting caught doin' something you're not really supposed to be doin'?"

The dark skinned teen could only stare, his face surely turned the color of a ripe tomato with all the blood currently circulating in his cheeks. Little bursts of noise attempted to form an answer to Buford's question, but instead sounded something more like, 'I…. Eh….. Ah….'. His arms flinched when the older kid's chubby face leaned closer to his, his wide eyes flickering between the mischievous smile and the furrowed brows. Oh god, was that _his_ heart making all those pounding noises?

"Of course, I'm the perfect teacher for that kind of thing. I could even show ya a few tricks right here if you wanted."

Baljeet could feel the whimper leave his throat more than he could hear it. He tried to sink farther into the wall, his blood pounding in his ears and making him dizzy as Buford drew ever more near. He tried to swallow, but the finger still holding his mouth open initially made that sort of a difficult task.

"Hey, Baljeet!"

The foreign, feminine tone that suddenly assaulted the boys' ears caused them both to pause and look down the hall. A sweet looking girl with brown hair hurried towards them, clearly not fazed by the predicament the two were in. Baljeet quickly yanked his face away from Buford's fingers and smiled weakly in her direction as the pounding began to die out.

"W-Wendy! How-how are you?" he asked shakily, laughing slightly through his nervousness. Buford's face curled into a rather pissed frown, but he backed off from Baljeet and merely watched the two from off to the side. Oh yes, he remembered this girl. This girl had been Baljeet's first kiss, back when they were kids.

"I'm doing great!" Wendy smiled, adjusting the textbook on her hip. "Hey, listen, I was just wondering…" She bit her bottom lip and glanced at the floor, then back at a much more calm Baljeet. "You know, Junior Prom is Friday, and uh… I was just, ya know.. Curious as to if you'd.. be my date?"

The nerd blinked a bit, his finally cool face pinking back up at the offer.

"You.. You want to go with _me_ to _prom_?" he asked incredulously, a smile worming it's way onto his lips.

Wendy nodded hopefully, hugging her book to her chest rather cutely. "Will you come with me?"

Baljeet didn't even have to think of an answer. "Yes! Yes, of course I will go with you!" he chimed, grinning from ear to ear.

The brown haired girl's face lit up, an excited smile climbing up the side of her lips. "Wow! Great! So, our limo will pick you up at 6:30, okay?" She giggled, quickly leaning over to peck the boy on the cheek before turning and hurrying back down the hall with a wave. "I'll see you then!"

"6:30 it is! Bye Wendy!"

Baljeet hummed gently, putting his hand to his cheek. Wow! Did that just really happen? Was he really going to Prom with Wendy? This was like a dream come true!

Any happiness still radiating from the skinny teen's body was instantly lost as he suddenly found himself slammed back against the wall. He sputtered and coughed, trying to catch his breath after the wind was suddenly knocked out of him. As he looked up at the massive figure looming over him once more, his eyes went wide in sheer terror.

He had seen Buford angry before, but not like this. He had never seen such pure hatred burning in his eyes. The horrible scowl showing off his clenched teeth was accented by his furrowed brows, and both the hand fisting the front of Baljeet's shirt and the hand pulled back and ready to fly were shaking.

"What-?" Baljeet whispered gently, instinctually grabbing his fingers around Buford's meaty wrist like it'd protect him.

The two stared at each other for the longest 7 seconds of their lives; a horrified, trembling brown staring into a fiery, malicious green.

Finally, Buford's face softened slightly. He roughly let go of Baljeet's shirt, then dropped his raised fist.

"….. You're not worth it."

Baljeet watched Buford shuffle away down the hall, his breathing erratic and his heart pounding and confused.

… _What just happened?_

* * *

><p>Baljeet spent the majority of lunch idly wandering, his lips tugged into a confused frown. He had no idea why Buford had acted the way he had, and it was starting to eat at him. Such a thing had never happened before. Sure, they got into fights sometimes, but they always made up pretty quickly afterwards, sometimes even within the hour.<p>

So when the Indian teen tried to approach Buford to walk home with him and was very quickly and violently turned down, he came to the conclusion that something really _was_ wrong. Very wrong.

* * *

><p>AN: This story will be updated every Tuesday. ENJOY THE WAIT. Mwahaha.


	2. Chapter 2

_**More Trouble Than it's Worth**_

_**Chapter 2**_

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for all the nice reviews~ And to everyone who favorited and/or put this story on alert without reviewing…...

I am disappoint.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Buford didn't show up at his house the next morning. Baljeet was a little surprised, but he was going to be late if he waited any longer to head to school. It wasn't until he was halfway to Danville High that he really noticed how much he'd taken Buford's position by his side for granted. The closer he got to school, the more people would giggle at him and 'accidentally' shove him into garbage cans and poles. One particularly tall, nasty football player even managed to get his elbow into his eye, and merely sneered an insincere, 'Oops, sorry nerd. I didn't see you walkin' there.' in response.<p>

Baljeet sighed, putting his hand over his throbbing eye.

_Please oh please let Buford have gotten over whatever made him mad._

Unfortunately, the day was passed without any sign of Buford.

The next couple days ended up the same: Baljeet walked to school alone, got picked on and shoved around all the way there, and Buford was nowhere to be seen.

Baljeet had to admit, he was getting _really_ antsy. And _worried_. Buford may not have been fond of school, but he never deliberately ditched full days. On Wednesday Baljeet tried to contact him via cell phone, but every call would go ignored. Sometimes he would find himself gnawing on his pencils and tuning out the teacher because he was so upset. Didn't Buford know the only way to fix something with someone is to talk about it with them? Baljeet didn't even know _why_ he was being avoided, so how could he even dream about apologizing for it? How were things supposed to go back to normal?

* * *

><p>"Hey, Baljeet. … Baljeet. ….. <em>BALJEET.<em>"

The teen jumped a little, setting his fork down next to his plate of cafeteria food. He flushed a little in embarrassment and looked at the boy across from him. "Yes, Phineas?"

"Dude, you were trying to eat your fork. You have macaroni and cheese. It's easier to eat and it's better for you than plastic," Phineas explained, his face twisted a little in worry. "Are you doing okay? You haven't been looking so hot lately."

"Yeah, Baljeet," Isabella piped in, frowning. "You're not even paying attention in class, and you don't look like you've slept the whole week."

Baljeet sighed, picking his fork back up to prod at the macaroni. "I am sorry… I am just a little distracted," he mumbled, leaning his chin on his free hand.

"Hey, where did you get that black eye?" Ferb asked suddenly, pointing at a rather black and blue bruise around his friend's left eye socket.

"Probably Buford. It's _always_ Buford," Phineas responded before Baljeet could even open his mouth. "Speaking of the big guy, I haven't seen him in class lately. I wonder where he is."

Baljeet's face twisted up, his bottom lip curling up under his top teeth. He dropped his hands into his lap and slouched over, worrying at the skin lightly.

Isabella blinked. "…Baljeet?"

"I-I do not know where Buford is…" he mumbled, fidgeting. "H-He will not return my calls, and he is not walking me to school anymore. I tried to catch him at his home this morning, but his mother told me he had been heading for school an hour early all week. But he is not even here! This black eye is from that guy Brendan Flannery!" Baljeet's eyes grew hot as he began to spout, but he tried to pretend like he was less upset than he was. "I-I do not even know why he won't talk to me. He is absolutely furious with me, and I do not even know what I did to make him so angry! He has never _ever_ stopped hanging out with me for more than 24 hours!" He tried to wipe at the tears before they fell, but managed to catch them halfway down his cheeks. "I do not know what to do anymore!"

"Oh no.. That's horrible, Baljeet," Phineas chimed sympathetically. He reached over and grabbed onto his friend's shoulder, smiling slightly. "Hey, why don't we go over to his house after school? Maybe he'll be home and we can get some answers."

Baljeet sniffed, carefully wiping his streaming eyes once more. He blinked a little, glancing at the three teens before him. "You…. You would go with me?"

Phineas smiled warmly, squeezing his shoulder. "Of course we would! You're our friend, and so is Buford! We can't have something tearing your friendship apart, right? Maybe Buford is just having a family crisis or something."

"I doubt it…" the dark-skinned boy mumbled, poking his food again. "He would tell me if it was something like that."

"Baljeet, you can't keep being so pessimistic about it," Isabella said gently, smiling. "You're letting this halt your whole life, and he's probably not even mad at you. He's probably just busy."

The geeky teen sighed again, but managed to force a small, hopeful smile onto his lips.

"…..I hope you are right."

* * *

><p><em>Ding dong~<em>

The four friends stood on the porch outside a certain bully's house, gazing at the wood as they waited for someone to answer the door. Baljeet fidgeted and occasionally emitted tiny whines of nervousness, but otherwise everyone was silent.

"Hello?" The door opened, revealing a heavy-set, burly woman with tight curls cut close to her head.

Phineas smiled. "Hi Ms. VanStomm!" he chimed merrily, earning a smile from the woman. "We're here to see Buford. Is he home?"

"Oh, if it isn't my baby's cute little friends," the rather manly woman cooed sweetly, ushering them inside. "Buford's upstairs. And please, call me Biffany."

Once Buford's mom called upstairs to warn her son that he has guests, the four teens idly began their journey to the carpeted staircase.

"I am so nervous," Baljeet mumbled, wringing his hands. "What if he really does hate me?"

"I'm sure that's not the case, Baljeet," Phineas encouraged, smiling at the other boy. They reached the top of the stairs and approached a rather threatening door covered in skulls and biohazard stickers. Isabella nudged Baljeet forward, then smiled warmly as she took place next to Phineas and Ferb a few feet away. Baljeet looked back at them, looking so nervous that he would burst into tears at any moment, then turned and faced the looming door.

He hesitated.

_Kn-.. kno-.. knock knock._

Loud death metal music Baljeet hadn't realized was even playing was turned down before the sounds of the locks on the door being undone filled the hall. He gulped and pulled at his collar.

A rather sleep-deprived looking Buford opened the door a few seconds later.

"Yeah, whaddya-" The bully paused, seeing at who was standing in his doorway. His eyes narrowed dangerously, but he visibly twitched as he caught sight of Baljeet's blackened eye. Recovering quickly and seamlessly, he pulled his lips into a dark frown. "… What do _you_ want? Why are you in my house?"

Baljeet nearly crapped his pants right there. He gulped, his face flaring up as his legs wobbled from adrenaline. He peeked up at the larger teen over his forehead so he could keep his visage towards the floor in a submissive manner. "You… You haven't b-been at school. I was w-worried."

"Yeah well, I'm fine, now get out," Buford quickly snapped back, moving to slam his door. Baljeet, almost panicked, quickly pushed at the door to keep it open.

"Wait, Buford!" he called urgently, getting the rather annoyed bully in front of him to pause and glare. "I do not understand! Why will you not talk to me?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Buford growled, quickly moving to violently shove Baljeet from his door, sending the boy sprawling back onto the carpet. "Leave!"

The door slammed shut.

The four sat there in complete silence, each one staring at the door in shock.

"Well, that went rather poorly," Ferb said quietly, breaking the long, awkward silence between the friends.

"I'll say," Isabella agreed, frowning.

"Hey, Baljeet," Phineas cooed, leaning over to look at the dark boy's face. "Buddy, you okay?"

Baljeet was trembling furiously in the place where he'd landed on the floor moments earlier. Strangled sobs leaked out of his throat as he buried his eyes into his palms. He sniffed loudly and bit onto his quivering bottom lip, trying to keep himself from emitting any more crying noises.

"H-he… He r-really does h-h-hate me…" he hiccupped in a whisper, pulling his legs to his chest. Unable to contain himself anymore, his stuffed his face into his knees and began to openly bawl in anguish.

Isabella's face fell. She exchanged sympathetic expressions with Phineas for a moment. Both of them could tell there was something more to Baljeet's sadness besides just having a friend mad at him; oh no, there was definitely much deeper feelings involved. Feelings both Isabella and Phineas were very well acquainted with through each other. She furrowed her brows a bit. Oh, this was going to get solved _now._

"Hey, Baljeet," she said very gently as she walked over and crouched down besides the wailing teenager. She wrapped one arm around her knees and reached out to rub comforting circles into his back. "Hey, why don't you head home for today, okay? Ferb will walk you home if you want. Right Ferb?"

Ferb nodded quickly, a little smile on his lips.

Almost unable to talk he was crying so hard, Baljeet tried his best to communicate with the black-haired girl talking to him. "B-b-b-b-b-ut what a-a-ab-about-?"

"Don't worry about Buford, okay?" she cooed, pulling him into a one armed hug. "Phineas and I are going to stay and make him talk to us, even if he doesn't want to."

Isabella and Phineas helped Baljeet to his feet and walked him over to Ferb, who reached an arm around the shorter boy's shoulders in a comforting manner and began to help him back down the stairs and onto the street.

"Hey, call me when you get him to his house, okay?" Phineas called to Ferb, who gave him a thumbs up before disappearing into the stairwell.

Once the front door closed and Baljeet's cries were cut off, the couple turned and gave each other determined looks.

Isabella immediately began slamming her fist on the door. "Buford VanStomm you BETTER get your ass out here right now and talk to us!"

The music was once again turned down, and Buford pulled the door open. He sent a dark glare down at the two teens.

"What do _you_ pipsqueaks want?" he all but snarled, crossing his arms.

"You are going to sit down with us and tell us EXACTLY why you're so mad at Baljeet," the girl commanded, pushing past Buford and going into the messy room beyond, a peeved Phineas at her heels.

Buford blinked, then narrowed his eyes at them. "Just like I told the nerd; there's nothing to talk about."

Isabella frowned and plopped herself down on his unmade bed, crossing her legs and leaning back on her palms. "Oh I think there is. And Phineas and I aren't leaving until you tell us what's going on between you two."

"That's what you think," the massive teen snapped, stomping forward to stand in front of his classmates. "You two are going to get out of my room _right now_, or-"

Isabella quickly grabbed hold of his collar and yanked him down to her eye-level, snarling fiercely in his face. Buford immediately recoiled in fear, like a frightened Chihuahua who's just been approached by a Mastiff.

"Okay okay, fine! You win!" he agreed, putting his hands up in a defeated motion. "I'll talk!"

"Good. Glad you see it my way," the female concluded, rather pleased with herself as she leaned back once more. "Now spill."

Buford hesitated a moment, looking quite sour as he tried to think of something right to say. He knew he wasn't going to get out of this, lest Isabella castrate him, but he clearly didn't really want to talk about it either. He grumbled darkly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"He comes here looking all worried 'n actin' like he cares 'n shit," he mumbled, glaring at the floor.

Phineas blinked. "What? You're mumbling."

"It's his fault, anyway!" Buford snapped, throwing his arms in the air. "If he hadn't accepted and been _oh so excited_ about it right to my face we wouldn't even have a problem!"

The two friends exchanged wide-eyed looks of confusion.

"Accepted what?" Isabella asked, quirking a brow as she turned his gaze back to Buford.

The bully huffed and looked away. "Ya know. Prom," he grumbled, crossing his arms moodily.

Phineas's lips tugged at a knowing smile, but he tried to muscle it away to keep from potentially getting hit. "Wait, this is because Baljeet told Wendy he'd go to the dance with her?

Buford twitched when Isabella snorted in amusement. "So let me get this straight," the girl giggled, sitting up. "You're angry at Baljeet because you're _jealous_ that he's going to Junior Prom with someone who _isn't you_?"

"_Jealous!_" Buford looked quite offended. "Why the hell would I be _jealous_ of that Nerd-Lover?"

The ginger raised his brows, smirking amusedly. "You're trying to insult Wendy. You're proving our point."

"What?"

Phineas shrugged. "I mean, you called her a 'Nerd-Lover', like it'd be demeaning to like Wendy because of her taste in men. You're putting her down to make yourself feel _better_ about your own feelings, while at the same time you're actually _pissed_ that someone else would like him too."

"What are you talkin' about, Dinner Bell?" the other male growled darkly, narrowing his brows dangerously. "Are you trying to say I have _feelings_ for that nerd?"

"Buford," Isabella butt in, tilting her head to look the towering teen in the face. "You constantly keep Baljeet within an arms reach. You pick on him and call him bad names, and yet you _still_ go to him for advice and comfort and companionship. You're like a 2nd grade boy who doesn't understand why he wants to be with the cute girl in class, so he tries to humiliate her to make her look less appealing to him."

Buford only stared. You could practically see the cogs spinning and sparking in his head as he tried to process what was being told to him. After a few tense moments of silence, he furrowed his brows and leaned forward.

"Wait, are you callin' me a _moron_?" he asked, harshly poking the girl on the collarbone. Phineas buried his face into his palm, sighing.

"What I'm _saying_," Isabella huffed, pushing Buford away from her. "Is that you have romantic feelings towards Baljeet. You're jealous that Wendy is going to prom with Baljeet, and because you're confused at _why_ you're jealous you're _angry_."

"What the-? I don't like that.. that.. NERD. I'm not some _homo_! I like girls!" Buford argued, crossing his arms over his muscley chest in a matter-of-fact manner.

Isabella raised her brows at him, tilting her head down slightly and pursing her lips, giving off this look that said 'Are you really trying to shit with me right now?' Buford squirmed a bit, uncrossing his arms and shoving them in his pockets. He shuffled around under her gaze for a moment, biting at his lip. Finally he whined and slouched, stomping his feet a bit.

"Fine! Okay, maybe, _maybe_ I kind of like him a _little_," he finally mumbled out, plopping down onto the floor and burying his fingertips in his hairline. "But I can't do nothin' about it! I'd never even dreamt that I'd ever want to, ya know, _be_ with the little shit." He sat up and threw one of his arms out to the side to help him make his point. "And then he just goes and accepts that whore's invitation to the dance like it's the greatest fuckin' thing since anything RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! How am I _SUPPOSED_ to feel, huh? Happy?" Buford bit his lip, and rested his elbow on his knee so he could easily rub at the creases in his forehead and hide his upset eyes from the other kids. "I mean, he's my nerd! How am I supposed to keep him safe if he's with someone else?"

The couple still sitting on the bed blinked, exchanging glances with one another. Well, that was sort of unexpected. Isabella sighed gently, leaning forward and crossing her arms on her knees.

"Buford," she started gently, turning one of her palms up. "Why don't you just _tell_ Baljeet that you like him instead of ignoring him?"

"Are you jokin'?" he said, quirking a brow at her. He smiled gently, almost sadly, the expression making him look almost like a completely different person. "Nah, the little sucker would prolly think I was gross or sumthin'. It's better the way it is now."

"Dude, are you kidding me?" Phineas said suddenly, leaning forward like Isabella. "Baljeet has been a total wreck all week. He has no idea what to do with himself when you aren't around."

"Huh? Really?" Buford asked, perking up a little.

"Yeah! He's not even _paying attention in class_."

The teen on the floor glared. "You're lying. 'Jeet would rather his limbs be torn off than miss something that happens in class."

Isabella frowned gently, almost looking annoyed. "Again, that's his point, Buford! Clearly you have no idea the effect you have on Baljeet." At Buford's blank, non-believing stare, the pink-clad girl began to count off on her fingers. "Since Wendy asked him out and you got mad, Baljeet has not only stopped paying attention in class, but looks sullen and forlorn all day, walks to school alone even if we offer to walk with him, doesn't eat lunch, has been sent to the nurse's office _twice_ because he keeps fainting in Gym from exhaustion…"

"And, you just sent him home bawling his eyes out," Phineas added quickly. "I can honestly say I've never seen him cry that hard before."

Buford perked a bit. "… Baljeet…Why would he go home cryin' like a wimp?"

Isabella groaned, frustrated and pulling at the ends of her hair. "Buford! He's completely and totally infatuated with you! Do you not understand this!" She reached forward to grab onto the bully's shirt and shake him back and forth. "He thinks you absolutely positively _hate_ him, and it's completely tearing him to shreds!"

"But.. But I don't hate _him_," Buford admitted, blinking widely at her words. "I hate Wendy. She's a bitch; she's stealin' my nerd."

"So how many times do I have to tell you to _tell him that_," the teenage girl moaned, rubbing her forehead. "You're almost as bad as Phineas at this!"

"Hey now!" Phineas interjected, putting on an offended face. "I'm not that bad at figuring out romance stuff."

Isabella stared, an unimpressed expression on her visage. "Phineas, it took you like, 6 years to figure out I was flirting with you every five minutes."

"So you're sayin'…" Buford mumbled thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. "All I have to do to get the little prick back from that ho is to tell him I want his ass?"

"Whooaaa, whoa whoa, no. No, you should probably just let him _assume_ all that jazz," Isabella said quickly, waving her hands in front of her in a negative motion. Oh boy, she could only imagine how _that_ would go over. "Just pull him aside at prom tomorrow night, apologize, and tell him the truth. You're angry at _Wendy_ because you wanted to go with _him_. That's all."

"And you're _sure_ he's not gunna shun me if I tell him I'm a….. ya know."

"Believe me, he'll be _ecstatic_."

* * *

><p>AN: Oh yea, and this will updated in the early morning hours of Tuesday. Like at 1 am or so. Like this chapter did.


	3. Chapter 3

_**More Trouble Than it's Worth**_

_**Chapter 3**_

A/N: Heya! I will continue to say THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH to everyone who reviewed. It really means a lot to me when people tell me what they think of my story; it helps me have the motivation to write and get better. So THANK YOU MRAAA I LVOE THEM ALLLLL.

And again, to everyone who reads this, enjoys this, and does not review this…

I am disappoint.

The next chapter should be the last one. Enjoy~!

* * *

><p>Baljeet looked at himself in his mirrored closet door. He supposed he looked alright clothing wise, as he was wearing just a standard black tux with a matching bowtie. But his <em>face<em>. Dear god his face. He'd been crying on and off for the past day and a half, so his eyes were puffy and tinted a bright red, giving the black and blue one a rather horrible look, and the end of his nose was practically rubbed raw from all the tissue used to blow his nose. He sighed. Could he look any _less_ presentable for Prom? Surely he'd get picked on by Buford when he saw-

His eyes widened for a moment, then he looked away at his dress shoes.

Oh. Right.

Willing himself not to start up another crying fit, he quickly strode to his desk and grabbed his wallet and house keys, then over to his bulletin board to grab his ticket. Swallowing down the sting in his throat, he stuffed the paper into his wallet and spun on his heel.

_You are about to have a wonderful evening with a really cute girl. There is no reason to feel so down about that bully right now._

"Baljeet! Wendy and her friends are here!"

The Indian boy straightened up, wiped his eyes, and smiled.

Here we go.

* * *

><p>"Guys, I can't find the twerp!"<p>

Isabella groaned, unwrapping her arms from Phineas's neck. Phineas sighed, releasing his girlfriend so they could easily be yanked off the dance floor.

"Buford, it's only been 30 minutes!" Isabella snapped over the pounding hip-hop. "They probably went to dinner! Would you calm down?"

The large brunette hmphed, glancing around his friends while he worried at one of his short nails. "I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous! It feels like I'm about to do something really unnatural for my image!"

"Why don't you go eat something while you wait for Baljeet?" Phineas called, wrapping an arm around Isabella's waist. "Maybe you should ask someone to dance until he gets here!"

The bully gave them an unamused look. "Buford don't dance with nobody. Dancing is for sissies."

Phineas shrugged. "Suit yourself!"

Buford frowned as Phineas led Isabella back out onto the dance floor. He watched as they began to move to the popular music, and then turned his gaze upon the rest of the Junior class. He easily spotted Ferb sitting at a table buttering up two cute, giggling girls with his smooth charm. Moving on, he found his eyes on Brendan Flannery. A frown tugged his lips. Brendan Flannery, despite being a football player, was everything it meant to be less than attractive, inside and out. He was the only Junior more feared than Buford. People knew Buford at least had some morals, and the other nerds knew he would really only pick on Baljeet, but Brendan was just heartless. He used his status to get away with a lot of things, and he would frighten girls into going out with him. He was too ugly in both face and personality for someone to willingly date him.

And yet, as he looked, Buford found that Brendan 'cleaned up' well.

It made him look down at his own pin-striped suit and wonder if someone like him could look decent in formal attire. He thought he'd looked pretty nerdy, having to wear a nice dress shirt and a tie and all, but what if it actually looked good? Brandon Flannery looked like a decent human being all of a sudden, so what about him?

Deciding he was looking too far into it, he grumbled and turned towards the table with the chocolate fountains and snacks near the front of the venue.

He froze.

* * *

><p>"Boy, it sure is stuffy in here," Baljeet laughed nervously as he and Wendy entered the ballroom, trying very hard to keep a conversation going. He felt really horrible, since he'd spent dinner being mentally depressed about Buford instead of focusing on his date.<p>

"Yea, and it stinks of sweat," Wendy added, wrinkling her nose. "But this place is really pretty!" She smiled sweetly and hugged onto his arm, staring at him over her purple-shadowed eyelids. "And I'm really happy you're here with me."

Something twisted slightly at the comment, and Baljeet felt his face heat up, but he wasn't really feeling too excited about the comment. If anything, it made him feel worse, and embarrassed. The poor boy smiled awkwardly, laughing a bit again.

"And I am glad I am here with you!" he commented over the music, eyeing around for a way to get rid of the awkward. Spotting the tables of chocolate and sweets, he lit up. "Hey, uhm, would you like something to eat? I could bring you something."

Wendy beamed. "Sure! I'd love some chocolate covered strawberries!"

Nodding, Baljeet turn to hurry off, leaving Wendy to hike up her purple ball gown and trot off towards a table full of her friends. Finally being separated from the cute girl, the brainiac sighed and let his face fall.

Great. Tonight was going to be painful.

As he grabbed a plate and began piling it with fresh strawberries, his train of thought was interrupted by some excited voices.

"Hey, Baljeet!"

He blinked, then turned and found himself staring at a sweaty Phineas and Isabella. Clearly they'd been on the dance floor awhile. He managed a decent smile.

"Hello Phineas, Isabella!" he chimed, waving.

Isabella grinned pleasantly, scooping up a cream puff and pushing it under the white chocolate fountain. "How's your evening been? Enjoying your time with Wendy?"

Baljeet sighed. "No, not really." He glanced at the couple, but looked away when he realized Isabella was feeding Phineas the cream puff. Part of him sank a little deeper. "I thought it would be fun to go to prom with such a cute girl, but I am just miserable."

"Because Buford isn't with you?" Phineas asked through a mouthful of cream puff, smiling at the shorter male. Baljeet turned and gazed at him, almost in an alarmed manner, before slouching a bit and looking back at the plate of strawberries.

"…..Yes."

Isabella took a marshmallow from the table and dunked it in the milk chocolate fountain. "He's here, you know."

Baljeet almost dropped the strawberry he'd begun to cover with chocolate and whirled on Isabella, fumbling with the food. "Wh-WHAT?"

"He's even wearing a suit! Who knew someone like him even owned one," Phineas added, licking his lips before devouring the marshmallow in his girlfriend's fingers.

Baljeet's face practically caught fire, a rather flattering image of Buford in formal wear appearing in his head. He quickly batted it aside, and resuming his dipping of the fruit in the chocolate.

"Why would I care about a jerk like him?" he said proudly, holding his chin up. "If he does not like me anymore, so what. My life does not revolve around him."

Isabella crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, raising her brows at the Indian teen. Baljeet blinked at her for a moment, then squirmed.

"You know, making me admit that I miss him a lot more than I should does not help me accept that he hates me," he mumbled, turning back to his plate of four or five chocolate strawberries.

"Baljeet, he doesn't hate you!" Isabella groaned, standing straight and putting a hand on his shoulder. "In fact, he wants to talk to you about what happened the other day. He feels really bad."

"_He_ feels bad?" Baljeet spat, dunking another strawberry to add to the multitudes. "He probably just wants to make fun of me and yell at me again."

"No, really," Phineas sighed, reaching over and grabbing another marshmallow. "This whole issue was a big misunderstanding. He wants to clear it up with you,_ tonight_. He's feeling just as horrible as you are."

The dark-skinned teen frowned, pausing to estimate how many strawberries he might be able to fit on the rest of the plate. "Phineas, I know you just want to try and cheer me up, but…" He sighed, shrugging a little as he began haphazardly dunking 3 more berries into the chocolate fondue. "We both saw Buford's reaction the other day. He is not feeling bad about anything." He turned and gave the couple a rather pained smile. "I will just have to learn how to get along without him. I hope you two have a wonderful evening."

Isabella and Phineas just blinked at each other once Baljeet had scurried off with his plate of fresh berries. Finally, Isabella groaned and slapped a hand to her forehead.

_Great_.

* * *

><p>Even after Baljeet had stalked away from the dessert table with a plateful of strawberries, Buford's heart kept up its harsh thumping. He had spied the little nerd and his 'date' as they separated, and quickly hurried to hide behind one of the massive pillars lining the walls so that he wouldn't accidentally be spotted. The five minutes it took Baljeet to get the food and talk to Phineas and Isabella had felt like an eternity, and his heart had been pounding ferociously the whole time. But once the teen left to go and rejoin his date, Buford found himself cursing the fact that he hid; it had been a perfect opportunity to approach him.<p>

The bully frowned.

Did he… Really wanna do this?

Risk his reputation?

Have another label, one that wasn't necessarily a good one, slapped on his person for the rest of his life?

Buford leaned heavily against the pillar, gazing down at the ratty old sneakers that clashed with his suit pants. He scuffed the toe of the right shoe against the marble tile.

Was it… worth it?

Would having Baljeet be worth the worst-case scenerios?

He felt himself sigh through his nose. He really hadn't thought a lot about what he was about to do. He'd just been focused on clearing the misunderstanding that he hadn't even thought of what might happen to them if people outside of their group of friends found out.

And what about Baljeet?

What if people start harassing him more?

What… What if he couldn't protect him?

"What's wrong, Buford?"

The brunette looked up, surprised to find Ferb standing in front of him with a blonde girl attached to his arm. Buford huffed a bit and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"… Just thinkin'," he admitted.

"About Baljeet?" the green-haired teen inquired, staring with his usual blank look. He chuckled a bit when the bully turned pink and tried to deny it. "If it's any consolation, Buford, I'm pretty sure he's been thinking a lot about you, too."

Buford blinked, then cast an uneasy glance towards the girl Ferb had clinging to his elbow. Noticing the wary look, the slender teen whispered something in her ear, and waited for her to wander away before continuing the conversation.

"I wouldn't worry about her," he commented politely, "She's the GSA* president."

"Yeah I know," Buford sighed, sinking down a little in his stance against the marble. "I'm sorry, this whole thing with Baljeet's got me scrambled."

"Are you worried about what's going to happen when it gets out?" Ferb asked curiously, moving to lean his shoulders on the column next to the bully.

Buford sent the shorter teen a bewildered look. "How didja know?"

"Intuition."

"…. I'm not really worried about _my_ wellbeing or nothin'.." Buford mumbled, looking back at his shoes. "I can hold my own fine. But 'Jeet's a different story, ya know? He's so nerdy and sensitive and weak. What if people start makin' fun of him more?"

"Baljeet is stronger than you think," Ferb shrugged. "He's managed to put up with _you_ this long. Besides," he reached out and took the hefty teen's shoulder with a firm grip. "With you by his side, I think he'll be just fine."

Buford gave his friend a small smile, actually feeling somewhat better. "…. Thanks, Ferb."

"No problem. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a lady to charm," Ferb purred, a grin on his lips as he started off after the girl he'd released moments earlier. "Good luck!"

Buford stood in his silence a bit longer, his green eyes trailing towards the high, dark ceilings as everything began to settle.

Of course he could protect Baljeet.

Of course they could handle it.

_Of course_ it would be worth it.

The bully exhaled heavily, his heart fluttering strangely at the thought of becoming his best friend's boyfriend. He'd never thought of himself as the kind of person who would ever fall for another man, and while the idea was still sort of foreign to him, something in the back of his head knew about it the whole time. Who knows? Maybe it was a special feeling for Baljeet and Baljeet only.

Now, if only he could gather the courage…

* * *

><p>Baljeet had been on the dance floor for all of 3 minutes before he'd decided that going to Prom with Wendy was a bad idea. It's not that Baljeet couldn't dance; on the contrary, he was pretty good at choreographed dances. The problem was that Wendy didn't want to <em>dance<em>, she wanted to _grind_, which in and of itself was a completely horrifying idea. The instant she'd backed up against him, he felt himself freeze up. Even after she'd reached up behind them and placed her hands behind his neck and started them "dancing", Baljeet found it completely impossible to do anything of his own accord.

There was this horrible churn in his stomach that began when she started moving. It was nothing like the flip-flop that happened when Buford was near; no, that was strangely pleasant and heart-throbbing. This, this was a more… disgusted feeling, like Wendy had turned into something ugly and gross. He felt terrible about his sudden distaste for her cutely-shaped body, and that made the fact she was trying to grind on him all the more awkward.

His hands hovered over her hips, shaking and trembling and he tried to swallow back the lump in his throat and gather the balls to touch her female outline. Dancing so intimately with her suddenly just felt so… _incorrect_ all of a sudden.

_Would this feel the same if it had been Buford?_

Baljeet winced.

"Baljeet, why don't you hold on to my waist?" Wendy suddenly chimed in, looking back with curiosity on her face. "Hey, are you alright? You seem a little pale."

"I-I am alright, do not worry," the poor Indian stumbled, smiling as genuinely as he could. "I-I have just… never danced like this before."

Wendy beamed. "Really? That's so cute! Here, let me show you how to do this then."

Baljeet gulped, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. He bit down on his lip as she snuggled her back closer into his chest, and held his breath when she firmly planted his jittering hands on top of her hip bones.

"Now, since I'm in front, I'm going to move my hips and _you're_ going to follow my lead. You're going to move the same way I move at the same time. It's a lot easier than it sounds," the brunette explained over the pumping music, swaying slowly at first to help her dance partner get the feel of it. A few awkward moments of idle swaying later, she picked up the pace to half-speed and swirled her hips in a more complicated fashion. Baljeet held back a distressed noise; not only was he stumbling to match her, he was struggling to keep down that feeling of distaste. Her backside was pressed into his groin at all times, and he could swear he felt himself recoiling in horror at the pressure.

But he couldn't just push her away. He had an obligation as her date to selflessly do whatever she wanted to do, even if it meant feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Luckily, Baljeet quickly found that he could keep his mind at ease by paying closer attention to other things. As he looked around the crowded room, he quickly found the dark images of his friends as they lingered about the room. Phineas and Isabella weren't very far away on the dance floor, but he made sure not to let his eyes linger on them very long as they seemed rather… _into_ each other. Across the room, Ferb was putting on his usual charm to flatter a blonde girl as they sat at a table by themselves. A few paces down from Ferb was Django, who was trying very hard to impress someone with his contortionist skills and doing a bad job at it. Irving was wandering around with a pair of binoculars and a DLSR camera, taking pictures of God-knows-what for whatever reason. Buford was slouched in a chair with his arms crossed over his muscular chest and his legs were open in a manner that made sitting in such a fashion more comfortable-

_Buford_.

Baljeet's heart thumped heavily, almost painfully, in his chest. His face very quickly became flushed.

The bully looked strange, sitting by himself in his dark-blue and white pin-stripe suit and nasty old sneakers. He looked grumpy, nervous, even, and he was glancing around the room and running his fingers through his half-combed hair. Seeing him so cleaned up was such a refreshing sight, and it was clear by the way people were noticing him that Baljeet wasn't the only one who thought so.

He looked very…. _Handsome_.

Baljeet swallowed thickly.

_No no no, do not think things like that Baljeet. He does not want to be your friend anymore, remember?_

Wendy, despite the movement and the bass throbbing around them, soon noticed Baljeet's lack of focus and rise of nervous energy. As he began to completely drop their rhythm, she looked back at his flushed face in confusion to find him staring off at the tables halfway across the room from them. Blinking, she followed his line of vision straight to a hulking boy with his chair turned away from the table to face the dance floor.

A heavy frown settled itself onto her lips. _Crap_.

"Baljeet!" She spoke suddenly, releasing the back of his neck with one hand to move his face down to focus on her. "You know, you can do other things besides following my lead."

The Indian boy blinked out of his imagination, his brows furrowing at her suggestion. "…Huh?"

"For instance…" She smiled a bit too seductively, one of her hands moving to cover his. "You could do something… Like this…"

There was a certain satisfaction in hearing the surprised gasp that emitted from Baljeet's lips when she began trailing his hand down her hip and across the inside of her skirt-covered thigh. But the tremble that followed was certainly not one of pleasure, and Wendy could tell by the way he was hovering his fingertips above the surface of her leg that he was _very_ uncomfortable with the current situation.

But, nonetheless, she pulled his hand back up over her thigh and pressed it back, eagerly glancing up at where Buford was perched.

The satisfaction of catching the other brunette's eye and staring him down as she moved Baljeet's hands all over her legs was 3 times as awesome as enticing a reaction out of Baljeet himself. Buford was no where near as subtle as Baljeet, and the bully had made it very clear to her the day before prom that if she tried anything funny he'd have her head mounted on his wall. Not only that, but the rift she'd placed between he two friends by asking Baljeet made it very apparent that she would never have a chance with him. They were complete wrecks without each other, and if the way Baljeet was reacting to being so close to a girl was any indication, she knew any kind of attempt to make him hers was hopeless. So, to see Buford sit up straight and attempt to murder her with his gaze instantly made her entire evening worth it.

"W-W-Wendy, I- Uhm," Baljeet stumbled over any kind of coherent thought, his face draining of blood every time one of his hands got too close to his date's ladybits.

"Yeah, I know, I get it," Wendy huffed, breaking her eye contact with Buford and releasing the brown-eyed male's hands. She pouted as she turned to face Baljeet, her arms crossing over her small breasts. "Did that help you realize anything about yourself, at least?"

Baljeet, who had instantly retracted his hands from her person once the opportunity arose, blinked owlishly. "… Huh?"

"I _know_ you were looking at Buford just now. He makes you feel good, doesn't he?" she smiled sadly. "I can tell that being so close to a girl isn't a pleasant experience for you. You must find me disgusting."

"What? No!" Baljeet grabbed onto her shoulders, guilt sinking into his gut. "Wendy, you are very pretty, and I really like you-"

"But not like you like Buford," Wendy interrupted, cocking her head slightly. "If he touched you like I made you touch me, you wouldn't feel disgusted, would you?"

Baljeet bit into his lower lip and stood up straight, his whole body flushing at such an embarrassing idea. He wanted to deny it and reassure the beautiful girl before him that he really _did_ like her, but…

He sighed gently when she gently touched his cheek.

"Baljeet, it's okay for you to like him. I'm not mad," the brunette teenager added comfortingly, gently combing the curls on the side of his head with her manicured finger nails. "I want you to be happy, and you're miserable without him, aren't you?" When the boy could only stand there in embarrassment and shame, Wendy pulled him down and planted a kiss on his forehead. "Go talk to him. He likes you, 'Jeet. I can give you up because I know he'll treat you well. Just promise not to forget about me, okay?"

Baljeet blinked as her words settled over him. It took him a few moments of blank staring, but finally everything began to sink in. He smiled warmly, a comfortable affection for the girl washing down his body.

"… Why would I forget you?" he asked, a genuine smile on his face for the first time since the 'fight'. "You were my first kiss, and I am glad for that."

Wendy's eyes sparkled. ".. Really?"

"I have no reason to lie about such a thing."

Squeeing, the girl threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him. The two stood there in a friendly embrace for a few moments before Wendy finally backed off.

"Now go on! Go get him before I have to kick you!"

Baljeet grinned, this unexplainable urge to patch things up with Buford swelling in his chest at Wendy's urgings. He'd just thought that Phineas and Isabella were just saying things because they didn't want to see the friendship crumble, but seeing someone from the outside tell him that Buford still liked him… He supposed it must've given him some hope.

He grabbed Wendy's hands and gave them a squeeze. "… Thanks, Wendy."

The girl beamed for a moment, then shoved the Indian boy away. "Go on! Git!"

But when Baljeet turned to face Buford's seat, the bully was nowhere in sight.

* * *

><p>*GSA – Gay Straight Alliance. Just in case any readers don't have GSA groups at their schools and don't know what it meant.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

_**More Trouble Than it's Worth**_

_**Chapter 4**_

A/N: Okay, I admit, I lied. This is NOT the last part. Chapter FIVE will be the last part.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Seriously, your reviews really make me SO HAPPY. And props to CorieChan for leaving me the most ridiculous shit ever.

EVERYONE WHO READS AND DOES NOT RESPOND….

I am so disappoint.

* * *

><p>Buford, his meaty legs shuffling and trudging from a severe lack of motivation, managed his way across the ballroom towards a table in the back corner of the room.<p>

He should have _known_.

How could he have let everyone get his hopes up? Baljeet was no more interested in him than he was in any other boy at their school.

He exhaled heavily, using all his self control to keep himself from literally falling into a chair at the table. Leaning forward against the edge, he dropped his elbows onto the tabletop and ran his fingers through his hair.

Who was he kidding.

"Buford?"

The bully didn't even look up. "What, Phineas."

The ginger frowned and pulled a seat up next to the large teen. "Dude, what's wrong? Ferb said you were going to go find Baljeet."

"Yeah, I found him alright," the bully practically spat, acid lining his lips as he spoke. "He had that bitch all pressed up against him and he seemed to be having a lovely time touchin' her _all over her body_."

Phineas's frown deepened. "What? That doesn't sound like him at all."

"Well, that's what Buford saw, and Buford's eyes don't lie." The said male grumped over against the table, burying his strong chin in his crossed arms like a child with an attitude. "Little whore even had the balls to look me right in the eye and mock me to my face."

Sighing, clearly tired of running in circles over the issues, Phineas leaned over in his seat and furrowed his brows. "Look, Buford, I get that seeing him dancing with Wendy hurts, but honestly, all you're doing right now is being self-destructive. You're scared of being flat out rejected, so you're looking too deep into the situation. I mean honestly, when has Baljeet _ever_ had the guts to even _touch_ a girl?"

"I only know what I saw, okay?" Buford snapped in retort, banging a fist down on the table. "He really didn't look opposed to what was goin' on, so of COURSE I'm scared he's gonna ditch me for her!" He buried the fingertips of his left hand into his hairline. _No, don't cry_. "I just… It's just so… Hard to see them."

Phineas stared at his friend, eyes wide in sudden realization.

"You… You're in love with him, aren't you? This isn't a crush; you're really serious about this."

"OF COURSE I AM!" Buford yelled, once again slamming his fists down onto the table. He cringed gently when it got the attention of several nearby classmates, and let his forehead fall against the wooden surface. "… _God_, I don't know what to do. My head's all wonky and it's really hard to rationalize everythin'."

"That's a common side effect of love, my friend," the ginger chuckled, patting the hefty teen on the back. "Eventually, you'll be able to tell when it's appropriate to not take what you see at face value. The first and most important step to a healthy relationship is trust. You need to take what you know about Baljeet, and you need to trust that when you see him doing something against his character, it might really not be what it looks like. And if you have doubts, you need to ask him about it, and trust that he'll tell you the truth."

Buford smiled sadly, a small huff leaving his lips. "… You sound like we're already dating."

Phineas grinned. "You two might as well have been dating since we were kids."

"Phineas! Phineas!"

Said teen turned in his seat at the call of his name, blinking around the area for the source. It didn't take long for him to spot a gangly Indian boy with a black eye hurrying his way. "Oh, hey Baljeet! What's up?"

Buford froze up in his place with his forehead against the table. _Oh no._

"Phineas, have you seen Buford?" Baljeet spouted anxiously, stopping in front of his friend's chair. "One moment he was sitting near the dance floor, and the next he was gone!"

"Well sure I have! He's right here moping," Phineas beamed, motioning to the lump of a boy in the chair next to him.

Baljeet jumped, instinctively stepping back a step or two in surprise as he noticed Buford all slumped over. The brunette turned his head to stare at the object of his affection.

"Whaddya want, nerdface?" he growled, not having the energy to sit up properly. "Don't you have a girl to let rub up against you?"

The Indian boy furrowed his brows, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes. "_What?_" he asked, dumbfounded at the idea that Buford had actually seen Wendy trying to dance with him. "No, that was nothing! I just want to talk-"

"I ain't got nothin' to talk about with _you_," Buford huffed, turning his head to face the opposite wall.

The instant he saw Baljeet's face begin to fall, Phineas stood so fast from his chair that it toppled over. He swiftly reached over and slammed the palm of his hand into the back of Buford's head.

"God _dammit_ Buford!" He snapped, not even giving time for the bully to finishing squawking and look at him. "Would you just give him a chance? Really! You keep claiming to be all these things, and when you have a chance to prove them you act like a coward!"

Rubbing the back of his head and finally sitting up, Buford glared hot daggers at the ginger. "I am NOT a coward!" he snarled defensively, throwing his massive palms onto the tabletop as he stood to tower over his childhood friend.

"Then _prove it_!" Phineas countered hotly, poking the other male in the chest. "If you aren't a coward, then would you just _talk to him_ for Christ's sake!"

Determined to win such a challenge, Buford immediately seized Baljeet by the bicep and began to drag him towards the staircase at the front of the venue. "FINE! Let's go, shrimpy."

Baljeet sputtered a flustered noise of surprise, barely catching his footing as he was jerked along. "Bu-Buford!"

The plea was swiftly ignored, and the bully literally shoved their way through their mingling peers. The Indian was basically drug up the marble stairs by his arm, something he should have been used to by now but somehow wasn't, and his quiet requests for Buford to be gentler went just as ignored as his original cry. There were minor 'ooo's and whispers echoing from the students below, as they witnessed what they perceived to be a very angry Buford dragging a nerd away to be beaten on. But neither boy could really be bothered by them; right now, there were more important things to care about.

Once reaching the landing at the top of the tall staircase, Buford swung Baljeet out in front of him and through an open set of double doors leading to a deserted balcony that watched over the street. In an instant, both boys disappeared out of sight of the Junior Class still enjoying prom.

Baljeet soon found himself slammed against a cement wall, with Buford looming over him with a menacing expression curling his features. The scrawny teen recoiled on instinct; the whole scene was very familiar, and it normally didn't end well for Baljeet.

"You want to talk?" Buford growled lowly, one of his meaty fists latching onto the knot of Baljeet's tie. He pulled the boy up and leaned down slightly in turn, evening out the one-head height difference between them. "Have it your way. But you listen good and hard, ya hear? Because I'll tell you right now I am in no mood to have to repeat myself. Are we clear, shrimplet?"

Baljeet, his heart thrumming in both fear and, much to his dismay, excitement, nodded quickly in understanding. He whimpered helplessly when Buford leaned in close; he had never seen such a distinct distaste on his affection's face since the day Wendy had asked him out.

"I said_, are we clear_?"

"Yes! Yes, we are very clear!" Baljeet felt his knees begin to tremble. Buford was never this demanding. _Oh god, what have I gotten myself into?_

"If you ask me to repeat _anything_, I'm going to throw you down those stairs. Are we clear?"

Any form of excitement drained from Baljeet's heart, leaving only an extremely terrified child in its wake. He knew Buford was all bark and no bite, but the mental image of him rolling down a marble staircase left him horrified. "Y-Yes. Crystal clear."

"Good. Now pay attention."

There was a tense moment of silence between the 'friends', where Buford's hateful green eyes bore holes into Baljeet's panicked brown ones. Then, a small jerk, and a rough pair of light, slightly chapped lips slammed themselves down onto a perfectly moist set of smooth, caramel ones.

Everything stopped.

Their ears ceased to hear the noises of the party beneath them, Baljeet's wide eyes failed to see, Buford's brain stopped firing correctly, and both their hearts refused to continue beating.

Neither of them could remember how long they'd stood there motionless, but after what seemed like forever and a day, Buford carefully kneaded their lips together for a brief moment, then pulled away.

Having forgotten to breathe, Baljeet stared up into Buford's stern expression with a heaving chest, utter disbelief on his face, and tremors running through every limb of his body. The hand holding his tie released it's grip, then planted itself firmly against the Indian teen's back to give support where the poor boy's legs were lacking. Green eyes found their way across what could only be described as confused devastation as what had just taken place slowly sunk in.

"… I…" Baljeet breathed after an endless silence. "I do not…"

Buford's eyes narrowed dangerously, but the pain of hearing the negativity in the beginning of his affection's response was very, very apparent. "I'm not explaining myself to you."

Baljeet blinked rapidly, his eyes beginning to burn as realization began to sink in. "O-oh God, I…" he quickly covered his mouth and nose with his hands, effectively only giving Buford a good look at his eyes as tears poured from his lids. "I really am… Oh God, and you…"

The bully found himself wrapping both arms around the twiggy boy to keep him even remotely standing. His face softened gently at the sight of the boy in tears, but a certain firmness stayed in place until he could understand why.

"… Are we clear?" Buford spoke quietly, an uncertain rumble in his words bringing Baljeet back to the situation at hand.

He raised his head to stare into the full face of the large teen, his hands dropping slightly to rest on his chin. He gazed at the strange mixture of emotions through his streaming eyes, and quickly came to the conclusion that he had never seen Buford look so utterly _beautiful_ in his entire life. Sure, it was terrible to think such a thing, but Baljeet didn't get to see such raw and helpless emotion often. If Buford wasn't pissed off, he was bawling; there was rarely an inbetween.

But Baljeet couldn't dwell on the unfamiliar emotion he felt at the sight, because even though he could have stared at such a face for eternity, he knew that Buford had completely misinterpreted his half-sputtered revelation moments earlier.

He loved him. He'd been trying to deny it for some time now; much longer than just the past week. But after that kiss… Everything just seemed to… Click.

"… Crystal," he let tumble off the tip of his tongue. He dropped his arms from his face, letting them rest on the arms that were working to ease the pressure on his still weak knees. Before Buford could respond, Baljeet let a small smile tug at his lips and breathed, "If I asked you to kiss me again, would you throw me down the stairs?"

There was a pause, during which Buford could have sworn his jaw had hit the floor and his eyeballs had popped from their sockets.

_What_.

Something warm bubbled in Baljeet's chest at the disbelief, but it was half squashed when Buford dug his stubby finger nails into his back.

"Don't fuck with me, 'Jeet," the bully growled, narrowing his moss-colored eyes in his skepticism. "I'm being serious-"

"And so am I," Baljeet purred, a grin worming its way onto his bright pink, tear-stained face. "… Would you kiss me again?"

Buford blinked at him, trying so very hard to ignore the not-manly blood rising in his cheeks. "R…. Really?"

Tired of waiting for Buford to understand, Baljeet reached up impatiently and seized the back of the taller, burlier male's head. All it took was one unusually forceful shove to get their mouths connected once more.

The brunette's eyes widened.

_He… Likes me…?_

Feeling his knees begin to wobble, Buford pushed Baljeet back up against the wall. He hummed quietly, practically purring, at the muffled noise the smaller boy emitted at the impact, and had to press his fingers into the wall to keep his knees from buckling. Oh no, he was not going to let 'weak knees' get the best of him like a wimp. The hand still wrapped around Baljeet's waist tightened it's grip, pulling the two drastically different bodies closer together.

Buford would never admit it, but he wanted to cry. He didn't, of course, because that would be lame and cliché, but it didn't stop the overwhelming relief and exuberance. He had been so sure that Baljeet would reject him… But here they were, clearly sharing the same feelings and doing a damn good job of showing it.

A splat and a loud gasp forced the two teens to separate.

Jerry Henriech, a Sophomore boy who'd scored a date with a Junior girl, stood dumbfounded in the doorway to the balcony with a plateful of creampuffs face-down on the marble before his feet.

The two 'enemies' stared back, equally dumbfounded, for god-knows-how-long, until Baljeet's anxiety got the better of him. The embarrassed male whimpered gently in his throat and tried to hide in Buford's bulk, a newfound feeling of dread dropping into his stomach like a bar of lead. Getting the message, Buford quickly shielded his gangly affection with his arms and shot one of the worst death glares he'd ever given at Jerry.

"What're you lookin' at, assface?" He snarled darkly, causing the sophomore to nearly crap his pants.

"N-n-n-n-n-n-nothin'!" Jerry sputtered, quickly moving to pick up the creampuffs as best he could.

"Fuck that shit! Get outta here!" Buford barked, moving as if he was going to approach the doorway. The boy quickly abandoned the sweets as ordered and shot back into the ballroom.

Adrenaline running high, the bully pulled Baljeet from his stomach by the shoulders and frowned. "You okay?"

"Y-yes…" Baljeet looked up into Buford's face, concern and fear crossing his visage. "I just… was not expecting to have us be found out so quickly…" He sighed and looked away. "What are we supposed to do? What if people start bullying us?"

Buford opened his mouth to retort, wanting to ease the boy's fears, but caught himself upon catching sight of Baljeet's healing black-eye. He narrowed his eyes. "'Jeet, who gave you that black eye?"

A bit a confused, the Indian blinked up at Buford under long black lashes. "Uhm… Brendan Flannery…" he answered slowly, a bit unsure if he should really be telling the truth. "… Why…?"

The brunette turned and walked back inside before Baljeet even had the idea to stop him.

Buford stood at the top of the staircase. Green eyes scanned the heads of the Junior class below, a familiar hatred and contempt flashing in the orbs as he spotted his target. The eyes narrowed.

_Here we go_.

He began down the stairs, doing his best to ignore the hush of his peers as they noticed him. _Man, news travels fast._ He was about halfway down the staircase when it must have occurred to Baljeet what he was about to do, because all of a sudden the Indian boy was at the top of the stairs yelling at him over the music.

"Buford! Wait! Let it be!"

Completely disregarding the suggestion, the otherwise soft-hearted brute stepped onto the main floor and made a beeline for the person he had his eye on. His classmates, while staring and whispering to each other in a gossiping fashion, moved from his path. Complete determination on his face, Buford stepped behind an equally massive teen and poked him harshly on the shoulder.

The unattractive hulk turned, and grinned.

"Well well, if it isn't the very homo we were just talking about," he sneered, earning forced giggles from his posse.

Buford felt his anger flare, and it was all he could do not to clobber him right there. "You gave Baljeet that black eye earlier this week," he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Didn't you, Brendan?"

Brendan Flannery, practically beaming with pride, leaned back against a nearby posse member and picked at the corner of his eye with a sausage-like pinky. "Well, he _was_ asking for it. More like begging, really," he spouted, false disappointment on his lips. "The poor little fairy was so miserable, I could do the only thing a merciful guy like me can; bodily harm. Needless to say, he did spend quite some time looking more in pain than depressed, so it worked out pretty well if I say so myself.

"But from what I understand you're both a couple of little _faggots_, aren't you?" Brendan peered at Buford lazily, chewing disgustingly on the end of his left index finger's nail. "But I suppose that makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? Hiding your faggotry behind your big, disgusting exterior. Figures a guy like you would like dicks in his mouth."

Buford's fists were shaking now. But he knew the rules of fighting.

_Make him throw the first punch. Make him throw the first punch…_

"You must know this from experience," Buford chided, lifting a brow. "I mean, you're even bigger and more disgusting than I am. If I'm hiding my genuine love for another boy behind _this_, I can't imagine how many cocks you must have in your mouth at one time every other night."

A loud gasp emitted from the crowd at Buford's comeback. Brendan was now visibly riled up.

"_What_. Did you. Say?" Brendan managed out through gnashing teeth and trembling arms.

"Cocks," Buford repeated blandly, as if stating fact. "In your mouth. At night. How many guys _do_ you go through in an evening, Brendan? They're probably pretty desperate, if they let _your_ ugly face near their di-"

The first punch was thrown. The brunette grinned as he dodged the blow.

_Finally_.


	5. Chapter 5

_**More Trouble Than it's Worth**_

_**Chapter 5**_

A/N: All I ask is that you don't murder me for making the last part so utterly terrible. Hahaha. I hate it and everything about it. Especially the slipshod ending I threw together in 3 seconds because I couldn't actually find a good way to end the story.

FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THE CAMEOS GETS A BUJEET DRABBLE REQUEST. Caitlin, Matt, and Maggie don't count because they already know who they are. Especially Caitlin. 8|

Well, enjoy the last part anyway!

* * *

><p>In a matter of seconds, the two males were engaging in an all-out brawl on the marble floor, attracting attention of basically everyone in the ballroom. Screaming and yelling at one another as they rolled around, Buford and Brendan assaulted each other as harshly and as violently as they possibly could while trying to maintain an upper hand on the situation. Hair was pulled, skin was bit, fists were thrown, feet were kicked, limbs were wrestled. Only two minutes had gone by, and Buford had already taken a bloodied lip, and several bruises were sure to pop up on his belly later that night. Brendan, on the other hand, was spewing blood from a broken nose, one eye was watering from being punched, and one hand was occupied with keeping his testicles safe from any further attack.<p>

Both boys had gone deaf in their blind rage.

The sounds of their peers whooping and screeching were drowned out by the blood pumping in their ears and their sharpened focus on beating the other being into a pulp.

Baljeet pushed through the crowd of students, yelling for everyone to get out of his way. Reaching the inner edge of the circle that'd formed around the confrontation, he paused to gaze upon the sight before him.

Buford was just receiving a blow to the back of his knee, successfully crumpling him back to the ground and allowing Brendan to attempt to pin the equally massive teen. He was returned with an elbow to the gut, followed by being thrown off to the side towards an onlooker. Buford quickly rolled onto his back and moved to pursue the other male.

"Buford, STOP!" Baljeet yelled ineffectively over the crowd. He was jostled around in the excitement, and he had to plow through a couple of other kids before stumbling into the circle. He quickly fisted up a handful of Buford's shirt and began tugging. "Stop it!"

On instinct, Buford shoved the scrawny, weaker boy away like a rag doll, failing to notice who it was he'd thrown to the floor. When Baljeet hit the marble he cried out in surprise more than pain, but the noise was just enough to bring Buford out of his fury. The brunette whirled to look at where the poor teen was pushing himself into a sitting position, and a horrified look crossed his face.

_Shit!_

He moved to go help, but stopped when a look of sheer terror appeared on Baljeet's face. Some of the onlookers immediately began screaming unintelligibly about the cops.

"Buford!" The Indian cried, flinging a pointing finger to a place over the pale teen's shoulder.

Buford spun back around, and nearly came face to face with a switch blade. Despite his heart leaping into his throat, he quickly ducked out of the way and moved to trip Brendan, but only succeeded in making him stumble slightly, not to mention more angry.

"You-" Brendan began, lunging to jab the glinting blade at his opponent. "Will NEVER-" Jab. Jab. Buford was haphazardly stumbling away from each thrust, his emerald eyes trained on the blade and his head on the circle of students around him. "Insult me-" Slash. Jab. Buford had nearly scooted around the whole circle. "AGAIN!"

Brendan crossed the circle as quickly as his heavy limbs would let him, which wasn't necessarily very fast, and Buford easily dodged. The uglier male, thrown off guard, stumbled, and the swing of his arm recalculated to help him keep balance.

… Right as Baljeet was standing.

In a flash, Baljeet found himself pulled tightly into a familiar plush chest, and his ears were filled with the heart-wrenching noise of his best friend involuntarily howling in pain. Most of the Junior class was now scrambling noisily (screaming, yelling, stomping, among other ways of making noise), and the Disc Jockey had halted his tracks. The teachers and chaperones had finally busted through the crowd and began wrestling Brendan, who was still trying to cut the pair of boys as he was dragged away from them.

Buford, still clinging tightly to Baljeet, breathed heavily through clenched teeth, creating a painful hissing. His knees were wobbling, but it was clear that he would never allow himself to lose his footing.

"Buford!"

Doing his best to peek out from around the massive body in front of him, confused as ever, Baljeet spotted a _very_ worried group of familiar faces come running up. As they approached, Isabella visibly paled at the sight of her friend and Phineas and Ferb each moved to either side of them.

"Buford, you need to sit down," Phineas urged, pressing one hand into Buford's shoulder blade.

"What is going on?" Baljeet asked, his heart aching with confusion and fear. "What happened? First I am getting up, and then-"

"You need to relax," Ferb spoke over his brainiac friend, moving to unlatch Buford's arms from Baljeet's waist.

Phineas cursed under his breath from behind the other shoulder, and Baljeet could feel them sway as Buford was pushed on. "Isabella; quick! Give me something!"

"I'm on it!" Isabella snapped, quickly switching into Fireside Girl mode and rushing off.

"Buford, he's alright, you need to let him go before you squeeze him to death," Ferb continued to speak calmly, finally prying the big guy's arms off the smaller male. Baljeet wiggled from his hold, but quickly found Buford's hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Where's Brendan?" Buford finally huffed, glancing behind him at Phineas.

"The teachers have him. The cops will be here any time," the ginger replied, grabbing the wet cloth Isabella had returned with. He quickly removed his hands and replaced them with the fabric. "Here, sit down."

Buford, and by extension, Baljeet, were guided down into a nearby chair, where Buford slumped over and began running his thumbs across the back of Baljeet's hand.

Sirens were heard approaching outside.

Phineas looked up, then turned to the others. "I'm going to go talk to the cops. Isabella, take over."

The Volcano Scout saluted her boyfriend, then moved to take Phineas's place pressing on the cloth.

As he ran off, Baljeet noticed that Phineas's hands were absolutely drenched in blood.

In a panic, Baljeet rushed around to Isabella's side. He could almost _feel_ the heat drain out of his face as he set his eyes on the nearly fully stained napkin being pressed against a gushing wound much longer than it. He had to avert his eyes; the sight of so much blood spilling from Buford's back causing him immediate nausea. Suddenly feeling quite weak, he trembled his way into a kneeling position in front of the brunette.

Buford exhaled hotly out his nose, and refused to look him in the face.

"He had a knife," he stated plainly, wincing when Isabella upped the pressure.

"But you were nowhere near him!" Baljeet retorted, his voice cracking. He grabbed a hold of Buford's other hand and squeezed, trying to comfort himself more than Buford.

"He was falling towards you; I wasn't about to let some other jerk-ass cause you bodily harm," Buford grumbled, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

The fire sirens pulling up out front didn't phase their conversation one bit.

"Isabella, I'm getting a little dizzy," Buford added quietly, glancing back at the nicely-dressed girl repositioning the cloth on his wound.

"You've lost a lot of blood," The half-Hispanic teen responded, a gentle tone on her lips. "But it sounds like the firemen are here now, so just hold on a bit longer, okay?"

"Yeah, alright." The bully stared blankly towards his and Baljeet's hands, his eyes unfocused as his vision swam. He absently threaded his large fingers with the Indian's skinnier ones, and silently pulled the other boy forward to rest his lips on Baljeet's forehead.

Baljeet closed his eyes.

Not a moment later, two fire paramedics hurried in the front doors and over to the group of four teenagers sitting at the edge of the dance floor. Ferb backed off, and Isabella turned her head to face them. She relinquished her place to a smaller-built fireman, who removed the cloth from the wound.

"Back up," the other fireman ordered, gently urging Baljeet away with a hand. Reluctant to let go, the Indian boy scooted away, but kept the fingers of his left hand linked with the fingers of Buford's right.

"William, I can't get a good view of the abrasion," the smaller fireman spoke up after poking around the gash through the layers of clothing. He moved to speak to Buford. "Son, can you help us get your jacket off?"

Buford blinked a bit, but nodded and began to help William in the removal of his suit jacket. Taking extreme care with his left shoulder blade, the two firemen and the brunette pulled off the jacket and the dress shirt, leaving Buford shirtless. Baljeet took them, set them aside, and relaced his fingers with the other boy. He bit his lips, noticing the bruises forming upon Buford's torso.

"Ulrich, get the antiseptic and the gauze," William snapped, moving to look at the still oozing wound. The smaller paramedic urgently dug through a bag they'd dropped on the floor, and pulled out the necessary items in just a few seconds. He passed them off to William, who poured antiseptic on a thick pad and began to wipe the blood from around the now slightly oozing opening.

"Quick thinking, ma'am," Ulrich said, nodding to Isabella. "If hadn't put so much pressure on that, he'd probably have bled a lot more than he did."

"Well, I'm a Volcano Scout," Isabella replied matter-of-factly, a smile on her lips. "And Volcano Scouts are _always_ ready to leap into action."

"Lucky for you, having her as a friend," William added to Buford, who tried to smile through the stinging of the antiseptic. After one final swipe with the cloth, he peered into the laceration. He pinched around it a moment, then hummed. "Well, it looks like a pretty clean cut; the blade must have been very sharp. Unfortunately, it also looks pretty deep, and the angle at which it was cut has left it hard to close up on its own. We're going to have to stitch it." William stood and handed off the gauze to Ulrich. "The bleeding has stopped, so clean out the wound while I prepare the stitches."

Buford grumbled under his breath. _Stitches. Awesome._

Saline and soap were applied to the open gash, then it was blotted dry and checked for any more bleeding. Upon finding none, Ulrich administered a local anesthetic, and William hovered behind the bulky teenager as he prepared dissolvable sutures. Once it was confirmed that Buford's shoulder was numb, the stitching process began.

The whole length of the slice took 18 stitches to close completely. Despite the numbness, Buford spent the whole time squeezing Baljeet's hand, and was asked multiple times by the thin boy to loosen his grip before he cut off the circulation to his hands. About halfway through, a police officer came in and tried to ask questions, but because Buford was tense and slightly light-headed, he was loudly refusing to answer. Having given up, the officer requested to see Buford outside after the operation was complete. Once the last stitch was finished, the paramedics applied some more antiseptic, and dressed the wound properly. Buford pulled on his bloodied dress shirt, despite Baljeet's protests that it was "icky" and "unsuitable for wearing", then cautiously stood from his chair. They left the fire paramedics to clean up, heading outside to give their statements to the police. By the time they'd reached the front doors, Buford had physically refused his friend's attempts to help him through the lingering dizziness. After insisting he'd be fine, Isabella and Ferb took off to find Phineas, and Baljeet ducked back inside to request cotton and antiseptic from the firemen.

Buford was immediately approached by an African-American, plain-clothes officer, who flashed his special unit badge to the uniformed officers keeping citizens out of the scene.

"Goddammit kid, I thought you said I was never going to have to see you again while on duty," he snarked, motioning towards the open backseat of a nearby police car.

"Nice to see you too, Detective Tutuola," Buford drawled, plopping himself down sideways on the leather seat. The man scoffed and leaned against the door.

"Man, the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't I tell you to stop picking fights?" he scolded, crossing his arms.

"Hey now, _he_ threw the first punch," Buford corrected, frowning. "I didn't do nothin' but tell him what is _clearly_ the truth."

Tutuola rolled his eyes. "So you bated the bastard into attacking you first, so your side would be considered self defense."

The bully grinned. "Man you know me so well."

"I wish I didn't." the detective responded dryly. "So what'd this guy do to you? Make some snarky-ass comment or challenge your honor? Or was it something as equally stupid?"

Buford grumbled, glancing around the toned man just in time to spot Baljeet scurrying out with a clear bottle and a rag. He almost immediately felt his mood brighten.

When the teenager didn't answer, the detective frowned. He was about to ask again when a twiggy Indian boy hurried up and began rambling.

"I am telling you now that any protesting you wish to do against me tending to your minor wounds will go completely ignored," Baljeet began as he uncapped the bottle. "You will sit there and let me do this without any complaints, understand?"

The detective blinked when Buford nodded.

Baljeet moved to begin applying the clear antiseptic, but was stopped by one of Buford's hands.

"On one condition," the bully purred mischievously, reaching around his nerd's waist with his right arm. He nimbly pulled Baljeet down onto his lap, and was rewarded with a startled "eep!"

"Buford!" Baljeet cried, his cheeks lighting a bright red as he was forced to straddle the teen's bulky thighs. "We-we are-!" He glanced at the Detective nervously.

"Detective, this is Baljeet," Buford introduced, locking his fingers together on the small of said male's back. "Baljeet, this is Detective Fin Tutuola."

"P-pleasure…" Baljeet mumbled embarrassedly, recoiling into himself a little at the ethnic man's stern features.

"Likewise," Fin responded professionally, a strange look on his face as he eyed the two. "You gunna tell me what this kid did to you, or am I going to sit here and continue wasting my time on your punk antics?"

Buford rolled his eyes, then reached up with one hand to grab Baljeet's chin. Baljeet, who was pouring antiseptic onto the cloth, squawked in surprise and nearly spilled the liquid.

"See this?" Buford asked the detective, turning his nerd's face towards the man before pointing at his black eye. "That 'kid', Brendan, gave it to him earlier this week."

Fin raised his brow. "…. And?"

"_And_, 'Jeet is _my_ nerd," the brunette stated matter-of-factly, releasing his affection's face. "No one touches him 'cept _me_." He linked his arms behind Baljeet again. "Only _I_ can tease him, bully him, push him around, make fun of him, run his underwear up a flagpole, yadda yadda." Fin moved to respond, but was cut off. "And that's because we both know I would never actually hurt him on purpose."

Baljeet somehow blushed harder, and tried to ignore it as he dabbed at a small cut on Buford's forehead.

"Why him?" the man asked, tilting his head to punctuate his confusion. "Kids at your school get beat up all the time, and we all know you're not usually some straight-laced vigilante."

Buford smiled softly, his features relaxing as he eyed the dark-skinned teen on his lap with an uncharacteristic tenderness.

"Because…" he started, leaning down slightly to plant a light kiss on Baljeet's forehead. "I care about 'im too much."

Baljeet's heart skipped. _Oh, my…_

The corner of Fin's mouth twitched in amusement. "The cops said he pulled a blade on you, and you were getting treated for a wound he inflicted. Lemme guess," he pushed off from the door and let out an exasperated sigh. "His bitch-ass looked like it was gonna get shanked, so you stupidly jumped in the way and take a blow that probably wasn't going to hit him in the first place."

Buford smirked. "Sounds 'bout right."

The detective rolled his eyes sarcastically. "_Congratulations._"

The bully pulled Baljeet closer, savored the mindless, self-conscious mumbling he got in response, and buried his nose into the other boy's black curls.

"Eh, it was worth it."

* * *

><p>In the weeks to come, Buford and Baljeet ended up receiving more praise for their change of relationship status than hate. Then again, Buford had also proven that while he might be dating another boy, he was still the absolute <em>last<em> person you'd ever want to upset. So when people weren't smiling and giggling good-heartedly at the two as they walked down the hall hand-in-hand, people were recoiling in fear that if they even showed any kind of possible dislike, they'd get the shit beaten out of them. No one messed with Baljeet, and some even sucked up to him just to get on Buford's good side.

Brendan Flannery was accused of Assault in the Second Degree, and more than a dozen eye-witnesses volunteered to take the stand and speak against him and his character in court. He was found guilty, and was sent to a Juvenile Detention Center the next state over.

And then—Oh, _there_ you are, Perry!


End file.
